


a friend like me

by euphemea



Series: edge of sea and sky [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Fluff, Gen, arranged date, the merpeople part of this universe is not referenced in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphemea/pseuds/euphemea
Summary: Annette was spring hope distilled into a tiny, energetic form, bubbling with optimism and still doe-eyed about the nature of the world. Sylvain didn’t understand how she could be, not with the apparently less-than-idyllic childhood she’d faced and the way her family had fallen from grace in the capital, but she was sweet and clumsy and seemed like she worked hard. He had to bite back a smile when she introduced herself by tripping over the wheel of her carriage, tearing the hem of her dress, and very pointedlynotcursing.Sylvain didn’t know if it was appropriate to tell her that he didn’t mind if she wanted to say “damn” instead of “darn”.Something about her rang a bell, but Sylvain was sure he’d never met her before.~~Sylvain Week Day 2: Study
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: edge of sea and sky [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641931
Comments: 7
Kudos: 35
Collections: Sylvain Week 2020!





	a friend like me

**Author's Note:**

> Late and out of order, but I wanted to get this out anyway! Set before the proper chapter 1 of the main fic ( _town of gautier_ ), but standalone anyway.

Annette was spring hope distilled into a tiny, energetic form, bubbling with optimism and still doe-eyed about the nature of the world. Sylvain didn’t understand how she could be, not with the apparently less-than-idyllic childhood she’d faced and the way her family had fallen from grace in the capital, but she was sweet and clumsy and seemed like she worked hard. He had to bite back a smile when she introduced herself by tripping over the wheel of her carriage, tearing the hem of her dress, and very pointedly _not_ cursing. 

Sylvain didn’t know if it was appropriate to tell her that he didn’t mind if she wanted to say “damn” instead of “darn”.

Something about her rang a bell, but Sylvain was sure he’d never met her before. 

“Ohh!! Not again!” Annette said, fussing with the cloth where it had ripped. 

Sylvain offered her a crooked smile. “Do you want to get changed? We’ve got all day.” Girls were fussy and delicate, and they always insisted on things being _just_ right, even when they didn’t matter. His parents agreed: appearance was everything.

Shallow, outward displays were a waste of time in Sylvain’s opinion (not that he couldn’t _appreciate_ good outer appearances, especially ones with nice tits), but what did he know? He’d never had to work for a damn thing in his life.

She waved him off. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. I’ll fix it up later. This is just the fourth time this hem has ripped… Mercie keeps showing me how to sew but I can’t seem to do it right!”

Mercie. Mercie? 

Sylvain squinted, but waved the thought off. 

At least she didn’t seem like she cared at all about his family’s wealth or his parents’ dowry expectations. Odd girl, but he kind of liked it.

“So, Annette, where’d you like to go? There’s not a lot to do in Gautier—sorry about that—but I can show you the sights anyway.” Sylvain grinned, bowing with a flourish. 

“I don’t know… What’s there around here? I’ve never been to this coast before… Oh! What about a bakery? I loooove pastries!” Annette said, her voice singsong. Her eyes crinkled fondly. “Mercie always has the best ones.” 

Mercie again. There was definitely a question there, and Sylvain had a sneaking suspicion as to the answer, but he could pursue it later.

“Sure thing,” Sylvain said, offering her his arm. Annette blinked, but took it. “One bakery visit, coming right up.”

* * *

“So, how is it?” Sylvain said, gesturing to the fruit tart. He bit into his own sweet bread, savoring the flavors as they sparkled against his tongue. It paired nicely with the salty sea breeze in their faces coming in over from over the docks. 

“Good!” Annette hummed thoughtfully as she chewed. “Buttery in the crust, but not as crisp as I’d like? The berries are really fresh! There’s not _quite_ enough sugar to pair with them, though, so it’s a _little_ tart… but I could eat this any day!” 

Sylvain laughed. “Not afraid to criticize the baker, huh?”

“Oh! Oh no, should I be? Have I been rude?” Annette glanced over her shoulder them back toward the small array of shops that formed the town’s center. “I like this a lot! It’s just… Mercie’s are better? I keep telling her she could open a bakery and business would be _booming,_ like _bam!_ But she tells me that she doesn’t mind just sharing them with me and that she prefers being a nurse.”

A Nurse Mercie who likes baking and sewing? That question was back, and the similarities to his Mercie were smacking Sylvain over the head. He’d be remiss to keep ignoring them.

“Say, Annette,” he said, voice carefully casual. “Would this ‘Mercie’ of yours happen to be a lovely Ms. Mercedes von Martritz, who grew up in House Bartels..?”

Annette inhaled sharply, choking slightly. “Are you some kind of mindreader?” She coughed roughly, but waved Sylvain off when he offered his hand to help pat her back. “If you are, you have to tell me. You can’t just keep that kind of knowledge to yourself!”

“Wha—Annette, no, I’m just asking a question.”

“Don’t lie to me! If you know some kind of creepy magic, you can’t just spring it on me! And, and—! You know, you should teach me!” Annette glared at him over the remaining third of her tart, pouting as she bit into it again and chewed. They hadn’t bought any milk to go with their sweets, but she seemed to be able to eat okay anyway, even after the choking fit. She squinted at him. “I don’t know how you know Mercie, but I don’t know if I can trust you. I’ve heard an awful lot about you from the rumors.” 

“Okay. Yeah, okay,” Sylvain said, pushing down the sting of her words. It was fine. She was right, he hadn’t given her any reasons to trust him. And he’d probably mess something up and make it worse soon enough anyways. He always did. “I mean, you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to. But I was just curious, because it sounds like we know the same person.”

“Hmm. Maybe.” 

That was _fine_ , Sylvain could let her think about her answer. The distrust definitely hurt, a little, but, well, she wasn’t _wrong_ about it.

Annette polished off the pastry in only a few more bites, silent as she looked out over the water. She brought up her hand to lick away the glaze from her fingers, still pensive, and Sylvain let his leg bounce impatiently, handing her his handkerchief. She blinked before accepting it.

She crumpled the cloth in her hands and looked up again, her eyes trained on a gull as it flew lazily around the railing of one of the docked boats.

“Hey, so, Annette—”

“Shush, Sylvain, I’m trying to figure out why you might know Mercie.” 

Sylvain repressed the urge to scrape his hand down his face. “I could, I don’t know, _tell you_?”

“Fine,” she said, letting out an irritated huff. “So how _do_ you know Mercie?” She held the handkerchief back to Sylvain and he took it, careful to avoid the spots where she had cleaned her hand with it. He folded it quickly and tucked it into his pocket, the unsoiled parts facing out. 

“Uh, well, I met Mercedes in Enbarr a few years back, and she helped me out of some trouble. Not, for once, _girl_ trouble, but trouble. Pretty serious trouble. She healed me up and… I don’t know, _listened_ , and we’ve been writing letters ever since. She didn’t push me or tell me I had to do anything and you know… it was nice. Really nice.” 

Annette let out an exasperated breath, fondness and frustration all rolled into one. “That does sound like Mercie… Always too willing to help out everyone, even when it’s not good for her.”

“I can’t disagree with you there,” Sylvain said, chuckling quietly. “She stayed up with me when I was healing, well past the time every other healer left. She was only in training then, but she worked way harder than all the professionals. It was more than I deserved, but she always told me it was okay… And even in her letters, Mercedes seems to always put herself last. I can’t say I’m not grateful, because she helped me when she didn’t know me, but she’s… she’s a real special person.”

“She is! She was my first friend at the sorcery school, and she helped me with my magic studies even though she was there to learn about healing. She always baked for everyone, and she…” Annette sighed, her chin dropping into a hand. “She sat with me every time Uncle wrote to say that Father is still missing.” 

“That’s rough, Annette. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure I like it when you’re being sympathetic and sincere.”

“Hey, I’m _always_ sincere,” Sylvain said, bringing a hand to his chest.

Annette rolled her eyes and turned back to the water, apparently deeming the statement unworthy of a reply. Sylvain watched as she took in the (admittedly boring) sights with surprising rapture. She mumbled what sounded like song lyrics under her breath as she gazed.

Not content to sit quietly, Sylvain grinned and leaned in. “You know, Mercie mentioned you a couple times, but I didn’t connect the dots until just now. You’re a lot… feistier than I thought you’d be.”

Annette threw him a frown. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! Mercedes just always described you as sweet and caring—which you are, I’m not saying she’s wrong!—so I imagined someone a little more docile.” 

Annette’s lips contorted irritably. “I’ll show you ‘docile’!"

She muttered something under her breath and flicked a finger. Out of nowhere, a cold blade of wind zipped past Sylvain’s ear, nearly clipping him.

“Hey—!” He slapped the side of his head. It came away clean of blood, but he could still feel the attack buzzing against his skin. 

Annette snickered, light and airy, and her hand rose to cover the chuckle. “You should see your face!”

“It’s enough that _you_ can see my face. It’s my best feature, after all.” Sylvain shot her a dazzling smile. Annette rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly. Well, maybe not, because she turned away again, but at least she didn’t seem like she was going to aim more magic at him.

Sylvain finally shoved the last bite of bread into his mouth and stood. With a half-smile, he offered Annette a hand. “Want to go for a walk? It’s kind of dull out here and it’ll get chilly soon.”

Annette shrugged, ignoring the extended hand and pushing herself to her feet. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet for a long moment, head tilted consideringly, before answering. “Sure.” She beamed at Sylvain, humming cheerfully as she turned and walked toward the town, her shoes clicking quietly as she stepped. 

Sylvain shook his head and followed. She really was a strange girl, but in a refreshing and slightly rude sort of way. It was good, if also hurtful at moments. 

Sylvain’s longer limbs allowed him to catch up quickly, and he dropped a casual elbow onto Annette's shoulder. “So, tell me Anni—sorry, Annette, what was sorcery school like?”

“Oh! Well, I didn’t go to the most prestigious school, but I learned a lot there! Like the fact that I should really be investing in Wind magic rather than Fire magic. Fire’s the most common, but not everyone has a strong affinity for it, you know? And the best way to learn magic is to learn what suits _you_.”

A few townspeople threw Sylvain eyerolls as he passed them, uncouth and careless of his company. He knew what it looked like. He knew what it _was_ , and he shoved down the urge to flip them a rude gesture; he hadn’t asked for another arranged date. And besides, Annette was a genuinely likable girl, he was allowed to show her around town. 

Luckily, she seemed engrossed enough in her own thoughts not to notice. Maybe too engrossed. He’d had to steer her a few times already to avoid some unfortunate collisions. Tearing her skirt seemed less and less likely to be out of the ordinary for her if this was her typical spatial awareness. If he looked carefully, he could spot a few patches of haphazard repair in her shawl that matched the rip in the dress.

“Wind magic, huh?”

“Yup! It’s the most dexterous kind of magic, light and agile! Not always the most useful day-to-day, because Fire can always heat stuff and help cook and whatnot, but I like Wind a lot more than when I was trying to force myself to be the best at Fire and it wasn’t working.” She flushed slightly, smiling sheepishly as she once again failed to look at where she was going. Sylvain grabbed her arm to drag her out of her crash course with a flower vender’s stall. “Though, I’ve broken some things with Wind spells that have gone awry.” 

Sylvain could believe it was likely that Annette’s clumsy Wind spells had gotten her in trouble at least once. He supposed he was just lucky her flick from earlier hadn’t missed. 

Annette continued. “But it’s really rewarding to see all this magical theory come together and make something from nothing! A lot of spells used to be used in wars or for capturing enemy territories or just decimating the backline. Just. _Flash! Boom!_ Gone! They don’t teach those spells anymore, not unless you’re joining a mage corp, but we still learned about the sigils and rituals that went into them.” 

She paused suddenly, and it was Sylvain’s turn to almost crash into something (namely: Annette). 

Annette clapped her hands clapping together excitedly. “Oh, a bookstore! I always love looking for new magical texts and romance novels. Let’s take a look!”

Sylvain frowned. He knew this bookstore, and they hadn’t stocked anything new in ages (nothing new ever came to Gautier, everything in it old and tired and threatening to rot), but he supposed a look couldn’t hurt.

“After you, Anni—Annette” he said, bowing lightly. 

Annette sighed at his antics but obliged, pushing open the door to the shop. The bell tickled and Sylvain stood, shaking his head slightly. Tough crowd.

* * *

The bookstore had been a mistake. 

Even though Sylvain had been _sure_ they wouldn’t find anything there, Annette had decided to stay for well over an hour, speed-reading the first chapters of a whole stack of novels and unearthing (apparently) a copy of a rare reference text that she’d been unable to find in the capital. So now Sylvain was stuck playing the gentleman and carrying a sack of books for his date as she traipsed ahead of him from door to door, very nearly knocking over several pieces of likely-pricy merchandise that had been brought in on the merchant ships to Almyra and Sreng. Those urns looked _fragile_ , and Annette’s arm had _just_ passed over the top of them.

“Annette, wait—”

She turned, giggling slightly at his exaggerated exertion. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m good, just want to make sure you’re not running off on your own.”

“Sure, sure.” She pointed at a low wall about twenty paces away. “Why don’t we take a break?”

Sylvain let his head drop to his chest, shoulders sagging in relief. “Thanks.”

She flopped down and hummed. “It really was a nice day out. Too bad the sun’s setting soon.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain said, letting the sack fall to the ground as he took a seat beside her. “Just dinner at the house left, then we’ll set you up for the night and you’ll be back off toward Enbarr again in the morning.” 

She nodded. “I had fun, despite…” She waved a hand meaninglessly. “…everything?”

“What do you mean by ‘everything’?” Sylvain said, brows drawing together in confusion.

“Oh, just. Gautier as a port isn’t super well-known in Enbarr, though it’s definitely one of the bigger ones… But I mean, even _there_ , your, uh, _exploits_ , get around. Mercie’s never said anything about you, and I can see why.”

Okay, ouch. 

“I am a _perfect_ —”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a perfect gentleman, I get it.” Annette rolled her eyes. “It’s annoying how fake you are sometimes. But you’re actually pretty okay! When you’re not trying to be dumb. You listened to me ramble a bit, and you helped me not break things while we were walking around.”

“They’re just things anyone should do.” Sylvain shrugged. “And I mean, I am pretty dumb.”

“Ugh! No you’re not. You were able to understand that Ice magic text in the bookshop enough to know it was wrong and that I shouldn’t get it, and you’ve never even studied magic. It’s annoying to hear you talk like that, because it makes _me_ feel stupid!”

“I, uh. Sorry?”

“Yeah, you should be!” Annette huffed, crossing her arms. “I swear, some people have all the luck.”

Sylvain sighed. “Look, Annette, I didn’t ask to get all this. People have just always thought that _of course_ I’m going to be smart, that’s why my parents picked me to be their heir.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I don’t really know why I’m telling you this. There’s not even really anything to say. But I just want you to know, I’m not smart, and I’m not as good as you are. You work really hard and that’s… that’s really impressive. There’s no way I’ll ever keep up. I could never do anything like that.”

“Ugh! That’s what I’m _saying_! It’s frustrating that you seem like you’re never trying, but apparently you’ve always succeeded anyway. You know where everything in town is from, you know what merchant ships carry what, you know the exchange rates and all these other bits of random information.” She uncrossed her arms to punch Sylvain gently against the shoulder. “You already know so much, but you’re wasting your brain by trying to claim that you’re dumb. You should work harder, and then we’ll be even.” 

It was hard to imagine. A world where Sylvain worked and got what he deserved? Nothing but a gossamer bit of imaginative fluff, but it sounded nice anyway.

Sylvain laughed, tilting his head back to look at the purpling sky. “You know, Annette, maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” She laughed and patted him on the hand. “And, if it makes you feel better, you can call me Annie. I know you wanted to once or twice.”

Sylvain blinked uncomprehendingly.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Annette and her smile, warm and kind and hopeful, exactly the image of the sweet girl described in Mercedes’s letters. “I wasn’t really expecting anything from this, but you’re really not so bad in the end. So stay in touch, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, thanks.” Sylvain tilted his head to grin at her. “I’ll do that. And you, too. Annie.” The nickname was sweet against his tongue.

He took her hand and kissed its back, winking as he did so. She rolled her eyes at him yet again, but her smile was fond this time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter [@euphemeas](https://twitter.com/euphemeas)!


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